


The death of a mockingbird

by SilverDust09



Series: Post- A Dance with Dragons one-shot series [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, game of thrones
Genre: F/M, Jon is King in the North, Post - A Dance With Dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24755146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverDust09/pseuds/SilverDust09
Summary: Here...Baelish's death.Well, it is just a drabble. I might write some more in the near future. Perhaps from other characters perspective.
Relationships: Harrold Hardyng/Sansa Stark, Jon Snow & Sansa Stark
Series: Post- A Dance with Dragons one-shot series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790203
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	The death of a mockingbird

Sansa could barely stand upright, but that was perhaps only because she was watching the first execution since her Lord Father had been behaded in King’s Landing scarce three years ago. Back then, she had been a little girl, but now that she was three years older she still felt as if she knew nothing of the world.

She had known that Lord Baelish was no good man, but what he had done to Jeyne was unforgivable.

 _And I followed and helped him_ , she thought with an aching heart. _Poor Sweetrobin._

And all because she had wanted to go home to Winterfell, to reclaim what was lost.

„I won’t miss him,“ Harry muttered, as Petyr Baelish was dragged forward torwards the wooden block that had been prepared for his execution. The Wildlings, the Lords of the North and the Lords of the Vale had come to see Lord Baelish killed. Sansa saw no pity in their eyes, though she doubted the Wildings cared much. They only came for their friend, the King in the North. „He was a piece of shit.“

King Crow some called him and King Snow others. Sansa didn’t know what to make of it all. Before coming here she had been happy about the prospect of seeing Jon again, but she doubted her Lady Mother would have approved of her half-brother’s crowning. Sure, he was only Rickon’s regent, but Sansa had seen how Lady Wylla Manderly had been squirming around her half-brother like a bee around a pot of honey. Other Lords had also spoken to her half-brother, offering their daughters. Sansa had the feeling that many of them would be willing enough to overlook Jon’s natural birth as long as one of their daughters would be the next Queen in the North.

Or perhaps Sansa was wrong and it had more to do with the fact that her brother Rickon had turned into a Wildling who refused to speak anyhting but the Skagosi tongue.

„He made you lord of the Vale,“ Sansa reminded her husband. Harry was not bad-looking, but he was no true knight. He had two bastards from another woman and the way he had gotten Sansa with child had been more than uncomfortable. Somtimes, she still woke shaking when she thought back on how he had taken her maidenhead. It had happened shortly after the tourney in which Harry had crowned her Queen of Love and Beauty. Sansa had been drunk and Harry had thought her a bastard willing to share his bed. In a fit of passion he had forced himself upon her, probably hoping to get away from the marriage once he had spoiled her, but the contrary was the case. Eventually, Sansa’s true birth had been revealed and Harry had been forced to wed her. „And if you wish to wield any influence you better stop being so arrogant. Northmen do not like cocky southron lords.“

„I always knew they were barbarians,“ Harry muttered. „They made a bastard…,“ he began, but Sansa cut him off with a sharp pull on his arm.

„He is my brother and the King. We better live with it or we won’t find any friends here.“

„As you say, lady wife,“ Harry muttered and shifted his attention back to Lord Baelish and Jon. At the first glance, he looked like father, but Sansa knew better. Jon had changed as much as herself. The Wall had turned him colder than father had ever been and his short dark hair made him look older than his near seventeen namedays. „I shall keep my mouth shut.“

Lord Baelish was whimpering like a maid, his green-grey eyes eying Jon’s Valyrian blade with great fear. Ghost was also there, easily towering over Jon by a head. Wolf could easily devour Baelish, but Jon’s presence held him back.

„You may speak your last words,“ Jon told him. „Lord Baelish.“

Surprisingly, Lord Baelish lifted his head and looked over to Sansa.

„I wish to speak…to Lady Sansa!“

Sansa froze.

She looked at him, but she said no word. She could not, for if she did she feared Lord Baelish would fill their life with even more lies.

No, she had enough and looked away.

„I think you said enough,“ Jon said coldly. „My sister has no interest to speak to you.“

Sansa didn’t look when Lord Baelish died. She held no love for him, but executions had never been a joy to her.

The Northmen and Lords of the Vale thought differently. They were clapping and laughing.

Sansa felt sick and asked Harry to lead her back inside to her old chamber. She had insisted that she would have her child here and Jon hadn’t objected, though he hadn’t spent much time with her since he had been crowned. He spent day and night, attending to their guests or preparing for winter.

Sansa was not surprised he didn’t include her. She knew nothing of war and Harry was not well-liked among the Northemen.

Yet, that was not the worst about her return. The worst realization had been that she would never be able to call Winterfell her home again.

Thus, it surprised her when Jon came to seek her out on the night after the execution. He was bereft of his usual finery and wore a simple grey tunic, breeches and black boots. Looking at his face, one could take his skin for pale wax. His eyes looked also darker, almost like ink. Only when the light fell upon them could one see a hint of purple.

„You are alone,“ Jon said and looked around. „Where is Lord Arryn?“

„Probably whoring,“ Sansa replied, but didn’t care. „But I doubt you came here to inquire about my lord husband.“

„No,“ Jon replied and stopped in the middle of the room. It was then that Sansa noticed how much he had grown. He was taller than father and graceful in build. Perhaps another feature he had inherited from his mother, this nameless woman her father had hidden from them all their life. „I came here to speak about the future.“

„The future?“ Sansa asked.

„Not only that,“ Jon replied and knelt down in front of the hearth, rubing his hands together. „The truth is…I am planning to travel to Riverrun, but I cannot leave Winterfell in the hands of one of these ambitious lords. We never got along as children, but you are still a Stark and as long as you are prepared to head the advice of a council and keep your husband away from imposing his southron views upon my men, I am willing to give you the temorary regency over Winterfell. It should not take more than two moons to speak with Daenerys Targaryen.“

Sansa’s head had snapped up faster than a whip at the mention of this name. Aegon Targaryen was now King, but there was also his Aunt Daenerys Targaryen, who had arrived here in Westeros not along ago. They said she had hatched three dragons and that her army was made of godless savages, but then they had heard even stranger rumours from the south. Of krakens devouring fleets, of King’s Landing burning with wildfire and of course the return of Prince Rhaegar’s son.

„Do you think that wise?“ Sansa couldn’t help but to ask. „Wouldn’t her nephew be a better choice?“

Jon shook his head. „Aegon Targaryen’s sellswords are no match against our enemy, but three dragons could give us a fighting chance.“

Sansa knew who he was speaking of. The Others.

„They say her father’s wildfire was the cause of the burning of King’s Landing,“ Sansa voiced her concern. „And they say she burned half the Reach when she fought against the Ironborn.“

Jon seemed unimpressed by her words, but perhaps there was nothing in this world that could scare her brother anymore after he had spent years at the Wall.

„Her father’s wildfire,“ Jon poitned out. „And I don’t give a fig about the Ironborn. As for meeting with her. I shall choose a neutral place…Harrenhall. But now back to the topic at hand…What do you say to my offer?“

Sansa pondered the offer once more. It was a peace offering.

„I think I can do it.“

Jon Snow almost smiled and touched her shoulder. His hands felt cold like ice. „I have left instructions. Just keep the Northmen and Wildings away from each other and ask for Mance’s help. He knows how to handle them.“

„As for your husband,“ he added. „I think you know how to handle him better than I.“

**…**

**Author's Note:**

> Here...Baelish's death.
> 
> Well, it is just a drabble. I might write some more in the near future. Perhaps from other characters perspective.


End file.
